Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
W arren viewed the land at Booth Farm, situated about half a mile from the centre of Eversley village. The farm sprawled out from the Mendip Hills with a variety of crops and milking cows. It was a fresh morning with the sun glinting on the ground which had been drenched in rain the previous day. He owed a lot to the owner Mitch Booth for believing in him enough to allow him to use a portion of his land for the initiative which was central to his PHD. The next step was to secure funding for the lease of the field long term, and extra funding would be needed for the project to continue. It was more than a project for Warren’s PHD now that the field was taking shape. It was going to be something for future generations. An initiative which would hopefully survive them all. Mitch was a lecturer at the college Warren had been studying at for some years and had encouraged him to take the PHD and suggested they applied for funding to enable him to create a silvopasture system, combining forestry and the grazing of animals.
He smiled to himself. Who would have thought that Warren Hunter the wayward lad would be months away from receiving a doctorate. Dr Hunter, he thought with a smile.
“Warren.”
He was brought out of his thoughts by the call which was accompanied by sounds of a yapping dog.
He turned around to see Mitch’s wife approaching. Holly waved at him as her small white dog with tan ears pelted towards him at top speed. He dropped his spade and strode up the slope towards Holly. She stood with her hair blowing in the wind. The dog jumped up at him and he lifted the fluffy Shih Tzu as it tried to lick his face.
“Trixy, calm down,” Holly said with a laugh as he reached her. “I’ve never seen her so in love with someone, especially a man. She’s usually not keen.” Warren knew why it was that Trixy liked him – it was because he’d been feeding her treats until he found out they kept the small dog on a strict diet due to the vet’s recommendation. Although that had been a few months before, the dog still made a fuss when she greeted him.
Holly gestured behind at her shiny new transit van. “I’ve got the saplings and a few plants from the list you gave me.”
“That’s great, Holly, thanks.” Warren had found both Mitch and Holly to be a warm and welcoming pair. Mitch owned the farm and Holly owned the neighbouring garden nursery and attached arts hub. She ran many community art projects and Lovelands was a popular stop for school trips and adult coach parties, so his field was ideally situated for educational visits.
“The thanks go to you, Warren, for your ideas and expertise. You’ll bring students far and wide to the silvopasture and that’ll serve all of us here. Apart from that, I love Agroecology.” She gestured over her shoulder. “Let’s get the plants.”
“Your new van’s great,” he said as they approached it.
“It cost a bomb, being electric, but I wanted to move with the times and our carbon footprint needs all the help it can get with the cows.” She laughed as she nodded towards the sheds than homed the herd and their fields beyond. Warren was also pleased Holly had a new van as she’d passed him her old one. Although it was many years old, it meant he had transport.
Holly opened the van and Trixy jumped into the back. “Out,” she said. “We’re not going anywhere yet.”
“This isn’t all for me, is it?” Warren asked as he looked inside the filled transit.
“Yes, it is. But it’s not just from Lovelands, I mentioned your project to my suppliers and they were happy to help. Just so long as you mention them at the end of your information leaflet.”
“Of course I will.” Warren felt excited as he looked inside and smelled the aromas of the plants.
“I’ll email you their details,” Holly said.
“These saplings are advanced,” Warren said pointing to them.
“I managed to source the horse chestnut and willow you wanted. It’s amazing planting things for future generations.” She handed Warren a box of smaller plants. “But of course your field is going to benefit the current generations too, through the learning they’ll receive.”
It took some time for them to carry the plants to the field. They placed most of them into a large greenhouse Warren had built. He decided to plant the trees immediately, as he knew exactly where he wanted them to be. He was lucky that the area already had a few established trees and these two would add to the ecosystem of the field.
“Remind me how the horse chestnut helps the field,” Holly said.
“Its extensive root system helps prevent soil erosion and enhances water infiltration. Then the flowers attract pollinators like bees.”
“When are the bees arriving?”
“I’m still in talks with specialised beekeepers. It’s not something I’ll manage myself as it needs an expert hand. I’ve a couple interested in the project though. And you obviously know the willow is there for craft making. Mitch tells me he’s excited about choosing a breed of cattle.”
Holly yawned. “Yes he is.” She held the sapling whilst Warren dug a hole.
Am I boring her? he thought. Sometimes he wondered if he chatted too much about his silvopasture. He didn’t have much else in his life to talk about, apart from this project. “Sorry, shall we take a break?” he asked. “I’m tiring you out.”
Holly laughed. “Not at all, I was brought up with physical work at the nursery.” She gave another yawn, bigger this time as if he had given her permission. “I was up late last night, as in all of the night.”
“Were the girls keeping you awake?” Warren asked. Holly and Mitch had two very sweet looking but rather boisterous twins.
“No, I was with a friend of mine who stood at the council elections in Wells.”
“Did it go well?” Warren asked.
“No. She’s been a councillor for ten years, done so much for the area and beyond and was pushed out by some guy who apparently saved a hedgehog on the B3134.”
Warren looked up. “Hedgehog Sam’s a councillor?”
“You’ve heard of him too?” Holly asked.
“Everyone’s heard of him. Not just in the UK, all over the world.”
“Except me,” Holly said with a laugh. “I was telling Nina all night not to be so silly, as if a guy with no experience was going to take her seat. I felt terrible when he won, and it wasn’t a slim win either! He walked it. She’s done so much and was supposed to be the next mayor.”
“Sam seems to be a nice guy but doesn’t come across as the local councillor type. He’s younger than me, only twenty-six.”
“Is he? Oh, no!” Holly said. “That’s even worse.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nina carried the record of being the youngest person to have been voted onto the council. He’s stolen that crown from her too.” She bit her lip.
“I’m sure your friend will be back soon. I can’t see Sam lasting.” He straightened up, having planted the tree.
Holly picked up the watering can and watered it in. “Nina was devastated. But at least she’s got Something Special .”
“What special thing is that?”
“It’s the name of her shop. A successful boutique and the go-to place in the whole of the county and beyond for wedding dresses. I got mine there.” She looked up with the empty can in her hand. “Both of them,” she said with a laugh.
“You were married before Mitch?” Warren asked.
“Briefly,” she said with a smile. “I’ll tell you about that another time! For now, we need to get to the farmhouse and put the kettle on because I’m in serious need of caffeine.”
Warren retrieved his mobile phone from where he’d left it in the greenhouse. There was a notification of a call. He swiped his phone to find it was from an unknown number .
“I just need to check my messages. I have a few outstanding enquiries.” He called his voicemail as Holly went outside.
He groaned as he listened. It was from Scottie asking him to call. He knew he’d been sent for a stretch in prison and must have been released. He’d met Scottie in one of the foster homes he’d been in as a child. They were both the same age and had become close as that set of foster parents were not doing a great job. They were separated when the couple were struck off the list but had kept in touch for the rest of their childhood and went to the same school. They’d got into a few scrapes together over the years, the last one resulting in Warren’s arrest. He’d achieved nothing with Scottie that he was proud of. Since he was sixteen, Warren had been on a different path. But while Warren had moved on from his wayward days, Scottie never had and often turned to Warren when in trouble.
Warren carried on towards the farmhouse and didn’t call him back. It’ll have to wait. He’d been told by many people to cut Scottie loose. It was tough; with little family, Scottie was the longest friend he’d had and they referred to each other as brothers. But the excuse for not cutting ties with Scottie was wearing thin. Rather than getting out of trouble, Scottie seemed to get deeper in each time and Warren guessed he was ultimately heading for a longer stretch in prison, rather than months. Warren put the phone in his hoodie pocket. He knew he had a tough decision to make and yet he always put it off.
“Mitch should be back from the sheds now,” Holly said. “I’ve a primary school class coming to the hub for a college project, so it’ll be nice to have a calm cuppa before the storm.”
As they entered the working kitchen of the farm, with its stone floor, they found Mitch already inside eating toast and drinking tea as he read a farming magazine. They used this kitchen during the day but there was another in the living part of the house that Mitch and Holly had refurbished for students and staff to use. They had moved out of the farmhouse themselves and lived on Holly’s land in a cottage with their daughters.
“Hey, take a pew,” Mitch, with his dark hair and ice blue eyes said to them in his Essex accent. “I’ll make some more tea and toast. I can’t believe you’re still awake.” He placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder.
“Me neither. And it’s coffee for me please, the strong stuff,” Holly added as Mitch went to the sink. “I’ve got a second wind but I’m not sure how long it will last.”
Trixy jumped up at Mitch’s legs and Warren smiled as he looked at the couple. They were so comfortable in each other’s company and when their girls were with them, they seemed like the perfect family.
“When are your parents coming to visit?” Holly asked him.
“Nick and Jane aren’t my parents,” Warren said. He knew when they’d dropped him off, the Booths guessed they were, even though he looked nothing like them. Nick was a short white man and Jane was West Indian. Not that Warren had any idea of his own ethnic origin. His skin was a light brown and his hair, which he kept short, was thick and grew into a tight curls if he left it to its own devices. He remembered his mother, but blocked out the lasting image he had of her. He knew he could sign up to a DNA site, but Jane had always taught him to look forward, not back. So he’d never had the urge to look into his roots.
“Are they relatives?” Holly asked.
When Warren arrived, he hadn’t felt he wanted to talk about his past. But there, sitting in the kitchen with Mitch and Holly, who were so approachable, it seemed to be the right moment to explain. “They unofficially adopted me.”
“Oh,” Holly said. “Do you not get along with your own family?”
“My mother died.”
“I’m so sorry,” Holly said.
“And I never knew my father.” The truth was he did not know the name of his father and he assumed neither did his mother as no father was named on his birth certificate. But he didn’t reveal that as Mitch passed Warren a coffee. “Thanks.” Shall I tell the truth? he asked himself, then decided he wanted no ugly secrets to present themselves. “I had so many foster homes I can’t recall all of them.”
“So when you say your mother died, she died when you were young?”
He nodded. “Five years old.” He paused. He only had vague memories of his mother, but the vision of her laying lifeless in the small flat they’d shared was always crystal clear. And the pain hit him in his chest every time he recalled it. “I wasn’t able to settle anywhere, I was always in trouble. I remember overhearing the social worker talking about me to one of the foster parents who told her I was attention-seeking.” He swallowed, realising he was sharing more than he’d intended.
“It’s understandable, mate,” Mitch said. “You were an orphan. I can’t imagine how that must have been. So were Nick and Jane foster parents?”
“No, I met them when I was sixteen. I’d found a bike. It was sticking out of a skip. The neighbour where I was living at the time was handy and helped me pull it out and bring it back to life. It gave me the freedom to go off on my own, without needing money for the bus. Then someone took it when I was in a shop. I was only gone a minute, I thought it would be fine. I saw the lad cycling off on it. I ran but wasn’t quick enough. I tripped.” He didn’t add that he’d cried. A sixteen-year-old who’d considered himself tough. “Some other kids laughed at me. I wanted to hit out. It was the only thing that was mine, really mine. Someone had taken it and got away with it, so I decided it’d be okay for me to do the same.”
Holly bit her lip as she looked at him intently. “Go on,” she said when he hesitated.
“I saw this great bike in an alley next to a café. I was already tall, and it was an adult bike. Black and red. It wasn’t locked so I jumped on and rode it down the alley but when I reached the end a big guy, and I mean huge, was standing there with a chain lock in his hand, looking as if he was going to swing it at me. I screeched on the brakes. It turned out to be his bike – he’d just gone off to collect the lock.”
“Did he beat you?” Mitch asked.
Warren smiled. “No, the opposite. He could tell I was scared. And calmly asked me to get off and give it back to him. I tried to dive past him and he grabbed me by the arm and told me to stop. I did as he said. Then once he locked the bike he told me to follow him into the café. I don’t know why I didn’t run. There was just something about him that I picked up.”
“He bought you some food?” Holly asked.
Warren nodded. “It turned out he was a policeman. I thought I was in deep trouble when he showed me his badge across the table. But I think he was just showing it to me so I knew he wasn’t a creep.” Warren shuddered; he’d met a few creeps in his time. “He told me his name was Darius and chatted to me, asked me about myself, then told me he used to be a wild lad too. And that everyone deserves a second chance.”
“What a great guy,” Mitch said.
“As I chatted to him, it seemed as if he was the first person to actually see me as a real person. A stranger who seemed more interested than anyone else I’d met.”
Holly stood up and tore off a sheet of kitchen roll.
“Hey, sorry, I don’t… I never tell people.” There was also more to the story of his wayward teenage years, but he knew he wouldn’t tell them all the details.
“Nothing wrong in sharing your past, mate,” Mitch said. “So how did you go from bike thief to doing a PHD?”
Warren gave a nervous laugh as it wasn’t just the bike he’d stolen as a kid. He’d shoplifted countless times. Was that really me? “ It still sounds mad when I think how different my life is now. Darius, the policeman, called over the café owners and they joined us for tea. After we chatted they said if I needed space to myself or was hungry, that I could go to them for a meal every day and that they wouldn’t need paying.”
“So you did?” Holly asked.
“Yes. They were Nick and Jane, and Nick is Darius’s brother, although they have different mothers. Nick’s mum died when he was young, so he seemed to understand. He’s a lot older that Darius. Nick is short for Nicolaus, they’re from a Greek-Cypriot family.”
“So you’re still in touch with Darius too?”
Warren nodded. “He’s a sergeant now.” He took a gulp of his coffee. “After a couple of days, Nick and Jane said I could stay longer if I helped them clean up. Within two weeks I was working there after school every day and they started to pay me. I saved enough to buy a new bike. Then Jane helped me with my homework when we shut. It was the last year of school and I just loved learning when I was with her. I managed to scrape through maths, English and science and with a letter from my social worker, they managed to get me into college when I didn’t have the highest of grades. It was like a new door had opened. As I applied myself, I discovered I was academic.” He laughed. “The young me would never have believed that. I always loved being outdoors – I thought at the time it was just to get away from the foster families. Although they weren’t all bad, I just never felt I belonged. I did a rural science course and the rest is history. After college, I went to university and I guess I’m addicted to studying considering I’ve been doing this PHD for years.”
Holly’s bottom lip trembled. “What a success story, you have to tell everyone. I can write it up in the pamphlet I’m preparing at the hub, explaining all about your silvopasture.”
“Hey, no. I don’t think I’m ready for that,” Warren said with a nervous laugh. He certainly didn’t want any deeper delving into his past. Up until then, he’d kept his wayward background a secret. Whilst it felt good getting it off his chest, he wasn’t ready to tell everyone, or the entire sorry story. Part of him wanted to keep it to himself because it was not something he wanted to think about. That part of him pretended that not only did he feel a different person, that he was a different person, erasing a chunk of his life as if it never happened. “I’d prefer it to be kept between us,” he said.
“We understand,” Mitch said. “Don’t we Holly. No telling your friends, especially not motormouth Jaz.”
Holly laughed. “Okay.”
Warren liked Jaz. She was Holly’s best friend and came over to the farmhouse once a week for a big family meal. Her husband didn’t come as he was the licensee of The Eversley Arms, the local pub which he’d yet to visit.
“Bless Jaz,” Holly said. “She’s not the best at keeping secrets. Not that she does it on purpose, she just forgets what’s a secret and what’s not!”
“How’s Nina today?” Mitch asked. “You could ask her to come to the pub on Friday with Ethan. I haven’t seen them for ages.”
Holly pulled her phone from her fleece pocket. “I texted her, but she’s not replied. I think she wants some space. I doubt she’ll be ready to face the villagers yet, she’ll have to get used to losing her crown. They all called her Councillor Smith.”
“I’m sure Ethan will help her put everything into perspective. She’ll be back, fighting for her seat at the next local election. How long is the term?”
“Hmm,” Holly said. “Five years I think, unless a seat becomes vacant. But maybe Nina and Ethan will finally set a date for their wedding as she won’t be as busy now.”
“Yes, she’s always encouraging others to tie the knot, and there she is, still single.”
Warren sat listening. This Nina sounded like a high-flyer.
“Have you got a girlfriend?” Holly asked him.
“No. I’ve not really met anyone I feel I’d like to be serious with. Most of the women I meet are students, too young for me and dating by app isn’t my thing.”
“You need to get out,” Holly said. “All you see is us and the others at the farm.”
“Come up to The Eversley Arms a week today,” Mitch said. “Julian’s putting the dart board back up and one of the locals is getting a team together. It’s a friendly match. Can you play?”
Pub games like darts and pool were something Warren had played a lot of, since before he should have been in pubs. He’d been tall from a young age and started drinking and going to the pubs in his mid-teens, the publicans turning a blind eye as the regulars wanted him on the darts and pool teams. Once Nick was on the scene, he’d ended up taking him to make sure he didn’t drink and get into trouble and he’d joined a darts team with him. Nick had wanted Warren to play the circuit but Jane told him he needed to focus on his studies. And she’d been right, but he did miss pub games.
“I’ve played a bit,” he said, not wanting to say he used to play the leagues in case he’d lost his touch.
“That’s you signed up then,” Mitch said with relief in his voice. “I was looking for someone to replace me, I’m useless. I can be the sub.”
Warren knew he should get to know the local people – after all, the project he’d started at Booth Farm was for the long term. He’d already decided to make Eversley village his home for some years to come, so it was about time he integrated.